Thursday, November 10, 2011

Monday, September 19, 2011

I do not belong in the first house that I ever bought. That I still own. The moments that I am there are always painful. By far the room that I dread walking into the most is my bedroom. On my dresser remains a stack of my books, lotions, CDs, photos. There are still a couple drawers of my belongings that I haven’t taken. He keeps clothes piled up on the side of the bed that I used to sleep.

I had notes that I wrote in my dresser. I see a page on top of the television. It’s the TV that I bought from a roommate before she moved away. I wonder why this piece of paper is there and I make the mistake of looking at it. It’s not one that I wrote.

It’s a love note that he wrote to her when she was here in this bedroom. At the same time that my children were here. All under one roof. In the house that is mine that I am not welcome in. And it hurts. But it doesn’t hurt for all the reasons that one might expect. Truthfully those feelings are there but I have faced them and I have moved on. I don’t want to live here with him. I don’t want him.

The reason it cuts through me is because this is not the man that I even knew. He never wrote love letters. I wasn’t worth it to him. The love that I always wanted, that I was never given, is here in my bedroom. This room was just never meant for me.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

My love,I can attempt to distract myselfBut I know I am transparent.Bury myselfInto a foray of aimlessly engagingStill, my only focus is you.A stolen glanceReturned.Clueless to what you are thinkingEverything left unspokenInsatiably denied.This wall shelters meFrom being crushedBy the weight of your rejectionLeaving me longingFor you to hold me closeSuccumbing to this fateIn knowingI’ll be waiting endlesslyFor something that will never be.

Sunday, June 26, 2011

Bipolar bouncing from love to hateSettling into the gray.Time advances forward... frozen over.Living in opposites Stop. Go. Crawl awayWith a band-aid covered broken heartThat has no regard for what I think.Clinging to every little sign And despising myself for itCoincidence. I try to convince myselfWanting otherwise doesn't make it so.Embrace the things I loveSipping coffeePink bubblegum lip glossThe warm breeze on a beautiful dayA favourite new song on repeatEvery moment with my girls.Sudden rage rushes in to devour meBefore I slip back into the aching sadnessSo tired of feeling brokenThen overwhelmed with anger again.I wonder if things will changeWhy fate hasn't stepped in Or have I blocked it Too afraid the next wave of pain will be too much for me.Red. Green. Yellow

Roaming through meSending tidal waves that steal my breathMy sweet ghost fills the spaceMore than any other soulSuffocating the othersWith no signs of vacatingPervadingRemainingForever in my haunted heart.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

The disease takes hold and sabotages all that was once good. When I didn’t suspect anything she crept in to suppress without regard. How quickly it spread. Indeed I am in awe of the evil weight it possesses. Now I fear that nothing can fix these cells. Even cut out and removed, the damage cannot be reversed. It is too late.

Luckily, or not, it is not fatal. I have to live through this. It’s not getting easier. I know it won’t get easier. I greet the hungry malady with a smile because how else do I deal? Anger does not change a thing. Denial gives it authority. Accepting is defeat.